Breaking all chains
by QuantumKhaos
Summary: Friendship is often complicated, but when Rose, Dimitri and Adrian are involved, the definition of complicated reaches a whole new level. All it takes is one look...one touch... And everything falls apart. Three people, bound by friendship, realize that being friends isn't as easy as it seems. And that love... makes no sense at all. All human! First Fan Fiction!:D
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Crazy Americans**

**Hey guys!  
So, I've finally decided to write my first EVER Fan Fic…A good decision..? Hmmm…Anyways, this story is primarily based on Rose, Dimitri and Adrian, with other characters occasionally making an appearance. I wanted to write this after seeing a movie called Cocktail, because the story seemed to fit perfectly with our much-loved characters from VA. So… Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I in no way own the characters of Vampire Academy or the storyline of Cocktail. (Even though I wish I did :D)**

**DPOV**

_"Last and final call for passenger Martin Stevenson travelling on American Airlines flight 5973 to London. Please make your way immediately to Gate 21."_

"Yeh, that's what she said the last time," I grumbled, running my hand through my hair with the frustration of finding my small, stupidly rainbow-coloured bag (I need to have a serious talk with Vika about how my brown bag went mysteriously 'missing' from my room about an hour before I was meant to leave) on the conveyor belt that seemed to be spewing out the same objects over and over again.

Then my trouser pocket started to buzz, when an object**-my phone-** started to move around. Taking it out of my pocket, I glanced down at the tiny glowing screen which read: _Mama calling…_I had only touched down about half an hour ago, and she was already worried about me in this 'dangerous foreign land' as she called it. Sighing, I pressed the little green icon of a phone, and put the phone to my ear.

Big mistake.

"DIMKAAAAA! I have been calling you for the past 2 hours!" Ah. Viktoria. That would explain the state my eardrums were currently in, but her voice did seem to portray some concern- maybe my little sister could be let off for her little game of 'bag swap'. "Did you stuff your phone up your arse or something?" she snorted, after which I heard a distant shout of disapproval in the background, no doubt from Mama.

"Vika," I warned in a cautionary tone- no way I was going to let her off now, "I couldn't pick up the phone because I was sat in a plane for eighteen hours remember?" I could imagine the frown building up on her face as she recalculated the time it took to fly from Novosibirsk to Los Angeles.

"Well I'm sorry for not being Einstein brainiac," she retorted, "but you should have called when you reached America. We had no clue what happened to you once you got onto that aluminium cage of doom!"

"Vika, it's called a plane, and I would have called if you'd given me 5 minutes to at least find my luggage. Speaking of which, what happened to my bag?" I said sternly, probably alerting her that I was going to launch into one of my 'lectures'.

"Oh that... Ermm... I don't know...Hang on Dimka, I think mama wants to speak to you," she replied hurriedly, and I heard some crackling as the phone was presumably passed on, along with a scolding directed at Viktoria for arguing with her brother.

"Dimitri! How are you? Did you have a good flight? The food wasn't bad was it? Why didn't you call earlier? Is everything okay? Wh-"

"Mama, I'm fine. A little tired I guess, but nothing life-threatening." It was nice to hear her voice again, even if she was overreacting because her 'baby' was in another country. "I'm twenty-four now mama, I can look after myself," I tried convincing her to stop worrying. An old lady next to me was now boring daggers into my side because I hadn't helped her put her five suitcases on the luggage trolley.

"Look, mama, I have to go now, but don't be worried about me. I'll call you later. Look after Vika whilst I'm gone, and look after yourself. I'll be back soon," I promised, whilst spotting a brightly coloured rectangle at the feet of a woman waving her arms around wildly at what seemed to be an airport official in the distance.

"Okay Dimka, don't forget I love you."

"I won't mama. Call you later, bye." At this moment I was speed walking over to where this woman was stood, and with further inspection, I saw that the rectangle was indeed my bag, complete with the Cyrillic writing for 'I love rainbows and unicorns' on it.

I really hoped there were no Russians around.

As I approached, I saw that the airport staff man looked like he really needed a coffee right now, as this woman with long, hazel coloured hair continued to shout at him, and he repeatedly seemed to be apologising for whatever she was getting so worked up about.

I was now stood behind her, and _Fred- Cleaner_ –that's what it said on his badge- looked up at me with a defeated expression, probably suspecting I was another traveller intent on ruining his life with my complaints.

"Excuse me, I think you have my bag," I stated in the direction of the woman, who was now looking weirdly at Fred, because he had stopped apologising in order to look at me.

And then she turned around.

**RPOV**

What the Hell? As I turned around, I was greeted by a blue T-shirt that had some messed-up alien writing on it, which quite nicely outlined some washboard abs that were currently in my face. I stepped backwards and had to crane my neck back to see the face of this intruding stranger, and…wow.

He was tanned, and had a confused expression on his very handsome face. Silky, dark brown hair framed his face perfectly, coming just up to his shoulders, accompanied by deep, warm, chocolate coloured eyes that could drown you in seconds. He had a strong jaw line etched with some sexy stubble that appeared to be a few days old, and last of all I gazed at his lips. They looked so soft and pink and…kissable.

And not to forget he was probably over "6'5".

He cleared his throat and said carefully, "Is something wrong?",probably taking my 2 minute overview of him as a sign that I was an escaped mental patient that needed to be taken immediately to the nearest asylum, as I was launched further into dreamland as I noticed that he had a faint (perhaps European?) accent.

"No," I replied probably a little too quickly, "Did you say that this was your bag?" I pointed down to the bag with the same backwards writing on it as his T-shirt.

"Guess that's my job done then," said Fred, who seemed to have not existed for the last few minutes, and looked a lot more cheerful than he was before, quickly scurried into the direction of Starbucks, fearing that I'd call him back with another string of complaints.

"Idiot," I muttered, when suddenly I was reminded of the cause of my previous anger. "You!" I now turned to face mystery man who looked like he really didn't want to deal with any shit I was about to give him.

Well, he'd better deal with it.

"It was you who took my bag wasn't it? Where the Hell is it? I've spent like, an hour trying to find it, and then I find this thing that looks exactly like it with some shit crazy backwards writing on it! Give me my bag!"

By the totally startled expression on his oh so handsome face, I realized that I had gone into what Liss calls my 'explosion mode', but I really just wanted to get out of this damned airport and crash on my couch at home.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I have no idea where your bag is," he paused to gauge my reaction before continuing to say, "but I'm pretty sure that's my bag you've got there with the 'shit crazy backwards' writing on it, which by the way is Russian," he added, before he bent down with his tall frame to pick up the tiny bag.

What? So that's what the accent was. "Do I look like I give two shits if it's Russian or Lithuanian? I just want to get my bag and to get out of here! Are you sure you haven't seen it, or are you just playing games with me here, because I'm in no mood to play." Wow. I was being a bigger bitch than I usually was, but this was just irritating me now.

"No, I'm sorry I haven't seen it, but I'm sure you'll find it if you ask one of the people at the 'lost luggage' desk," he said whilst pointing at it a distance away. Okay, so he was hot, but not the brightest crayola in the pack.

"That's what I was just doing!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms up into the air.

Mystery Man then raised one eyebrow, and said slowly, "That was the cleaner you were talking to."

Oh right. That's why Fred kept on repeating 'I don't know' for each question I shot at him. Huh. Who was the dumbass now? Me.

**DPOV**

I openly stared at this woman in front of me. She couldn't have been that old-21?22 maybe? But whoa, she had a huge mouth on her. Yes, I suppose she was quite pretty, with her long, dark hair fanned out across her shoulders, and nice features, but I didn't think I've had such a bizarre first meeting with anyone. Ever.

It was slightly awkward between us, now that she had probably realized that she had been a little stupid, so I broke the silence and said,"I've got to go now. I'm sure you'll find your bag soon, those people will help you."

I felt bad leaving her on her own to find it, but it was pure coincidence that she happened to have the same suitcase as me, and I really needed to reach Adrian's soon, because I wasn't sure how long I could go on without any real food. (I wouldn't class aeroplane food as edible)

"Thanks for being absolutely no help at all! Have a nice life!" she shouted behind me, as I uncertainly walked away from her with my multi-coloured prize in the direction of the exit. Now that was just rude.

I pushed back the thoughts of my so far disastrous journey as a blast of hot air hit my face, as I was greeted by the blazing sun glaring down on the landscape. Squinting my eyes, I searched around me for a signature yellow and black taxi, as I knew even though Adrian had promised to pick me up, he'd almost certainly forgotten.

After a quick call to Adrian to check that miracles might happen, and the usual annoying voicemail message, I managed to get a taxi and squeezed into the back seat.

"Where we goin' then?" An elderly man (who I thought looked like he should be enjoying his pension) glanced back at me through his rear-view mirror. At first I couldn't even make out what he said because of his accent, but then I hastily took out a crumpled piece of paper from my trouser pocket and unfolded it to reveal some messy scribbles that were Adrian's address.

"*some random address in Santa Monica*"

"Santa Monica eh? Rich place. This your first time here?" the driver questioned, putting the car into reverse in order to avoid having to wait behind a huge delivery truck that looked like it wasn't about to go anywhere anytime soon.

"Yes actually, I'm visiting a friend," I said absent mindedly, because I was too busy noticing that we seemed to be going awfully fast along the road leading away from the airport now that he'd put the car into 3rd gear. Nevertheless, I was too tired to say anything at that point. Probably the speed limits were higher than in Russia.

As we joined a smaller road, I thought that the car was swerving about a lot, and when I looked at the driver I almost had a heart attack. His eyes were constantly drooping shut, with his arms occasionally falling away from the wheel, but then he would jerk awake again with a disgruntled sound.

This went on for about twenty-five minutes.

Just as I was about to say something about finding a bus that took me to Adrian's, (and as I was about to have a nervous breakdown regarding my probable impending death) he abruptly stopped the taxi in front of a largish, fancy looking block of flats with huge balconies and windows.

"We're here then!"

Honestly, nothing could have made me happier than to hear those words. Except freshly baked black bread of course. I took out my wallet and handed him quite a generous amount of bills that I'd exchanged for the usual Roubles at Novosibirsk airport. I literally jumped out of the cab, accompanied by my troublesome bag. I just wanted to get out of the taxi before he changed his mind and decided to drive into an oncoming lorry. You never know.

My experience of America had been quite...strange so far. First that wild woman at the airport, and now this irrational taxi driver who most likely had one drink too many yesterday. What was that thing Ivan always used to say?

Crazy Americans.

**Love it? Hate it? PLEASE REVIEW! The characters of Rose, Adrian and Dimitri are quite different in this story than in VA, but all will be revealed later! Oh yeh, NO OFFENSE TO ANY AMERICANS OUT THERE! I love America and my best friend is American, so don't take it seriously! :) It's just Ivan! (silly Ivan :P)  
**


	2. Welcome to Los Angeles

**Chapter 2: Welcome to Los Angeles**

**Hola!**

**Thank you to Mori Belicov Hathaway, and Nbjbrownie for being my first reviewers! Your reviews made me so happy! :D I wanted to update because I'm going to go on holiday for quite a long time, so I won't be able to post any chapters for the meantime… Anyways, I hope you enjoy chapter 2! :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy, or its characters and I do not own the storyline thingy for Cocktail.**

**Happy reading! :D**

**DPOV**

As I started to walk towards the apartments, I realized that Adrian hadn't told me what floor he lived on. Sighing, I dragged my suitcase behind me along the quite posh looking pathway, and looked at the tiny writing written next to each button near the doorway. _Level 0: Adrian Ivashkov. _Ground floor. I would have thought that he would have taken an apartment higher up, what with the sea views and all, but knowing his family, they probably owned the whole block of flats.

I pressed the golden button next to his name and waited a few seconds, but nothing happened. I pressed it harder the second time, but there was still no response, either of his voice or the door buzzing open. Was he even inside? Unfortunately, Adrian was known for his rather…careless attitude in Russia. Coming home at three am, always accompanied by a vodka bottle was his recognition in the neighbourhood. So he moved to L.A, in the hope of further pursuing his hobby of painting, and to show people that he could do other things than just laze around on his backside all day. Which is probably what he was doing right now.

Pressing the useless button about 10 more times, I gave up and was totally at loss at what I should so next. It was seven o'clock in the evening by now, and it didn't look like anyone was about leave or enter the building, judging by the ten minutes I had been stood there. I looked over to the side of his presumed apartment, and saw that a considerably large window was slightly open, most likely due to the heat of the day.

But I couldn't…Could I?

It wasn't like I would be breaking and entering- Adrian's my friend, I wouldn't steal anything of his. Though I'm not sure if I'd really want to, since his shopping list usually started with 'CIGARETTES' underlined excessively. Mama wouldn't approve, but what could I do? I was hungry, needed a shower and a good night's sleep. So I made my decision.

After looking around to check that no-one was around, I went up to the window and gently prised it open a little, checking that it wasn't locked or anything. It was one of those ones that opened at the bottom. Building up some courage, I hauled it up further, until it could go no further and was about as wide as what a relatively large child could fit through.

And obviously I wasn't a relatively large child.

Shit. First I squeezed my bag through the tiny gap, and winced as it banged against the floor on the other side. Since that didn't seem to cause any alarm inside, I readied myself to do a twisted version of 'limbo' under the window, which would probably make me slip a disc. I sat down underneath the window, and extended my legs until my upper body was crammed between the window and its ledge, but at least my head and arms were safely inside. I then somehow pulled my legs through, and landed awkwardly on the hard, wooden floor, but I was inside. Adrian is going to be a dead man walking when he gets back.

I got to my feet and looked around me, taking in all of the surroundings. It was the living room, and it was a mess. Ash trays, empty bottles and crumpled clothes were the most striking features, in addition to empty coffee mugs and dishes strewn about the place. I could have sworn I saw a black bra thrown in there somewhere, but I prayed that was just the exhaustion talking.

In the middle of this bomb explosion, there was a fairly large, yellow coloured couch, with a sleeping figure lying in an uncomfortable position on top of it, which I immediately recognised as Adrian. I sighed and wondered how in the world he could be so wasted that I had to go through mission-almost-impossible to get in, while he was just lying there, as if dead to the world. (I already saw that he was breathing- the effects of chain smoking hadn't got to him yet.)

He had a bottle of Jack Daniel's in his hand that was hanging off the side of the couch, and his signature golden-brown messily styled hair didn't appear to have to be styled, but he looked well groomed as always, with some stubble which he claimed he purposely kept because it made him look 'uber sexy' according to women. I barely even had the time in two days to shave. He was wearing an expensive looking blue shirt, along with jeans and black shoes that were still on his feet. Though, the most laughable thing was that someone had written 'DIP SHIT' in lipstick on his forehead, and his innocent, sleeping expression made it all the more funnier.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture, before walking over to the couch and nudging him on his arm to wake him up. Sleeping at this time of day couldn't be healthy. As I suspected, he didn't wake up and I had had enough of this now. So I went over to the back of the couch, and fuelled by my anger, somehow managed to tip the whole thing over.

"Shit! Who the Hell…?"

See, now he was awake. I smiled triumphantly as I saw him drag himself out under the now upside-down couch and look around wildly to see what had happened. He then saw me, standing behind the couch like nothing had happened, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Dimitri! How the Hell are you here!? You were meant to be coming on the 9th right? How did you even get inside?"

"Adrian. Nice to see you too. It **is** the 9th, and I climbed in through the window, because after practically killing the button outside, I had no other way to get in." My voice sounded surprisingly wary, and he probably noticed that, because he came over and gave me the most genuine hug a man-hug could be. This was new, but I suppose a hug couldn't hurt after all the troubles I'd faced so far today. He smelt strongly of clove cigarettes and cologne, and I made a mental note to myself to talk to him about his bad habit.

After pulling back, he looked at me carefully, presumably taking in my appearance as I had with him. We hadn't seen each other for four years, and I could only imagine what he was seeing right now.

And I imagined it wasn't good.

**APOV**

I stared at Dimitri for a long time, and I could tell that he was starting to get wierded out. But the overwhelming feeling of seeing my best friend after so long brought back happy memories of when we were younger, when I used to live in Russia. He looked the same as always; maybe a little older (of course) but he was still the same Dimitri I had grown up with.

"I am soooo sorry! I had no idea that you were coming today! Ah Hell, I shouldn't have had all those shots yesterday," I grumbled, as I noticed I had a splitting headache that felt like rhinos were doing the Macarena along to some disco music inside my head. Surprisingly, Dimitri just chuckled, and reached down to unzip his bag, from which he took out some tablets and tossed them over to me.

"Take these, they'll make you feel better. Have you even eaten anything recently?"

I thought back to when I had 'fallen asleep', which must have been right after Drake's party, which had finished at about 5 am…

"Uh, no, not really. But I'm not that hungry," I lied. In fact I was starving, but then he'd probably start making some complicated, impressive meal, and I didn't want him to have to make food for me after he'd just arrived.

"Nonsense. I've known you for 15 years Adrian, and I know you're always hungry after getting hammered the day before. Now, do you have milk in the fridge or am I going to have to make cheese on toast or something?"

That didn't sound too bad right now; and it wasn't fancy or complicated.

I scratched the back of my neck warily, and said " Yeah, I don't have any milk, but I'm sure there'll be some cheese and bread lying around somewhere. You sure you don't want me to make something?"

Dimitri gave me a 'are you kidding?' look which gave me my answer. Apparently he hadn't forgotten the time when the microwave had almost exploded when I'd put a pack of jelly tots inside to see if they'd melt. And melt they did, along with the outer plastic. I was only  
eight for crying out loud!

After about 2 minutes, Dimitri handed me a plate of cheese on toast, as well as holding one himself, and I watched whilst eating as he practically inhaled his food.

"Dude, slowdown will you? Have you not eaten for days or something like that?"

"Something like that," he murmured, before setting his plate down and relaxing into the couch.

"Hey, do you remember that girl in High School, what was her name?, Sasha? The one who always used to follow you around like a lost dog?" I recalled the many hilarious times when me and Ivan used to laugh like hyenas when we used to see her following Dimitri around, and him running away from her. Once she had accidently followed him into the boy's toilets.

"Yeh, I do remember her, her name is Tasha."

He looked uncomfortable, and I wondered why. "What's up? Hey, I didn't mean to upset you or anything."

"No, it's all right," he replied, before dropping the bombshell, "but I did date her for a while."

I literally almost dropped my plate as my eyes bugged out of my head. "YOU WHAT?! Dimitri, why the Hell would you do that? She was practically your personal creepy stalker! Have I taught you nothing about girls?" I demanded, looking to him for an explanation.

"It was only for a short time! Mama thought that it would be 'good for me' to date someone from our year, so I played along for a while. She's not that bad you know, once you get to know her. I think mama and my sisters were beginning to have thoughts that I played for the other team."

My eyes widened, and he noticed my startled expression.

"No! It's not like that! Believe me, I do like girls, it's just that I haven't found the right one yet. Speaking of which, how're you doing? What happened to Avery?"

Avery? Oh, right. I faintly remembered her, and I had no clue where she was now. "Ah, she was too clingy. Went gallivanting around with that hot-shot guy, you know the one that was like the school 'champion' in football? I caught them with their hands all over each other in the locker rooms, and she was all like 'I was giving him mouth-to-mouth because he had difficulty breathing.'" That was the biggest bullshit I had ever heard, and I broke it off with her there and then.

"Shit. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked," said Dimitri, apology written all over his face.

"Don't sweat it, I was glad."

Dimitri looked like he was in deep thought for a few moments before saying,"Hey, Adrian, I had the strangest meeting with this woman at the airport. She had my bag and was screaming at me to give her bag back, because we apparently had the same one, and she thought I'd stolen it."

I thought about that for a moment. "So what you're saying is, this chick went apeshit at you because she had the same bag as you. Wait, was she an oldie or was she hot?"

"What? No! Yes?"

"Jeez, don't pop a vein, I was only asking, and your answer made no sense at all."

"No, she wasn't old, she was probably just a few years younger than us, and I suppose she was pretty?"

"Pretty!?," I asked incredulously, "Dimitri, you do not refer to a girl as 'pretty'. Sexy, hot, smoking come to mind. 'Pretty' will probably get you a slap. How did you survive without me in Russia?"

Instead of answering, Dimitri had a sly grin on his face and tackled me to the floor. We laughed and talked about our childhood for a little longer, and he told me about some nut job taxi driver that had almost killed him, until I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost ten o'clock.

I suddenly had a brilliant idea. "Hey Dimitri, you want to go to a club tonight?"

"I don't think-"

"Oh cut the crap and get your shoes on. We're leaving in five. I don't care if you're tired, you're coming anyways. Welcome to the fast paced world my friend. Welcome to Los Angeles."

**REVIEW PLEASE! Just to clear things up, Adrian, Dimitri and Ivan all went to school in Russia together, so that's how they know each other. Rose and a few other characters will be making an appearance in the next chapter! :) Adios! :D**


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